The Wolf King’s Omega
By Midnight Sparkles
♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤
Lyra did not sleep again.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw fire.
Every time she breathed, she tasted ash.
When morning light finally touched the small window above her, she pulled the fur blanket tighter around herself. The room felt colder than before.
The door opened.
A young servant girl stepped inside, her head low. She carried a folded dress and soft shoes.
“The Alpha ordered these,” she whispered. “He says you will not stay in chains.”
Lyra stared at the clothes but didn’t touch them.
“Why is he keeping me?” she asked quietly.
The girl shook her head fast, like she was scared to even think about the answer.
“No one questions the Alpha,” she said. “Especially not now. He returned with blood on his hands and a storm in his eyes.”
Lyra swallowed.
“What’s your name?” Lyra asked.
“Alin,” the girl whispered.
“Alin,” Lyra said softly, “please tell me what people think… about me being here.”
Alin hesitated, then leaned in.
“They think you are a problem,” she whispered shakily. “And problems don’t live long in this castle.”
Before Lyra could ask more, Alin hurried out, shutting the door behind her.
Lyra dressed slowly, her hands shaking. The dress was simple, soft gray fabric, loose sleeves, nothing fancy, but it felt strange after being a prisoner.
When she finished, a guard came to lead her.
They walked through long stone halls, past wolves with sharp eyes and sharper whispers. Lyra kept her head down.
Soon, the guard stopped.
Two huge doors stood before them. Black wood. Iron handles.
“The Alpha is inside,” the guard said.
Lyra’s heart slammed against her ribs.
The doors opened.
Kael stood by the tall windows, the morning sun shining behind him. He didn’t turn right away.
Lyra tried to breathe, but the air felt tight.
When he finally looked at her, she felt it again, that invisible pull, like the universe had tied a string between their hearts and was slowly winding it tighter.
“You’re awake,” he said.
“You didn’t kill me,” she whispered. “That surprises me.”
A flicker crossed his eyes, something like pain, or maybe anger. It vanished fast.
“There are reasons you’re still alive,” Kael said. “And you will learn them.”
Lyra lifted her chin, trying not to shake. “I don’t want to be here.”
“I didn’t ask what you want.” His voice was calm. “I only expect obedience.”
“Then kill me,” she said. “I won’t bow to you.”
Silence followed
Kael walked closer. He stopped inches away. Lyra could feel the heat of him.
“I didn’t spare you to watch you die,” he said quietly. “And you are not mine to break.”
“Then what am I?” she whispered.
His breath touched her cheek.
“A beginning,” he murmured. “And a threat.”
Before she could speak, the doors slammed open.
Serena entered.
Her smile was cold.
“So this is the little Omega,” she said softly. “The girl who made the great Alpha change his plans.”
Kael’s jaw tightened. “Serena.”
Serena walked in a slow circle around Lyra, like a wolf choosing where to bite.
“I expected more,” she said carelessly. “She looks small. Fragile. Very easy to crush.”
Lyra’s breath caught.
Kael stepped slightly in front of her, so small a movement that most would miss it.
Serena didn’t.
Her eyes narrowed.
“Oh,” she whispered. “So that’s how it is.”
Kael’s voice dropped low. “Enough.”
Serena smiled at him, but it was full of poison.
“We will speak later,” she said. “And when we do, I hope you remember where your loyalty belongs.”
She left with a swish.
Lyra looked at Kael. “She hates me.”
He didn’t deny it.
“She fears you,” he said. “That is more dangerous.”
Lyra felt cold sink into her bones. “And you? What do you feel?”
Kael’s eyes locked onto hers.
“I don’t know yet,” he said softly. “And that is the problem.”
After Serena left, Kael stood silent for a long time.
He didn’t look at Lyra.
He didn’t trust himself to.
“Guard,” he said at last, “Take her to the west wing. She stays under watch at all times.”
Lyra’s eyes widened, surprised, confused. But before she could speak, the guards led her away.
Kael waited until the doors closed.
Only then did he let out the breath he’d been holding.
He didn’t understand what was happening.
And Kael Draven hated the things he could not control.
Footsteps approached.
His Beta, Ronan, entered, tall, handsome, loyal since childhood.
“You brought her here,” Ronan said. Not a question.
A statement.
Kael nodded once.
Ronan’s jaw tightened. “The pack is already talking. Serena is furious. The elders want answers.”
“They’ll get none.”
Ronan stepped closer. “Kael… what is she?”
Kael stared at the floor, then at his hands, hands that had taken lives without hesitation, hands that should never shake.
“She is an Omega,” he said.
“There haven’t been true Omegas in years,” Ronan replied. “Not since the old bloodlines died out.”
“I know.”
Ronan lowered his voice. “The legends say Omegas can… bond. Change destiny. Bind fate to their Alpha.”
Kael’s eyes darkened. “They are stories.”
“Stories rooted in truth,” Ronan said carefully. “Stories of a bond no Alpha can break. Stories of love that destroys kingdoms.”
Kael’s jaw clenched at the word love.
“This is not that,” he said.
Ronan studied him. “Then why can’t you stop thinking about her?”
Kael froze.
Ronan’s voice softened, not weak, but honest. “I know you, Kael. You don’t spare enemies. You don’t keep prisoners. You never change your plans for anyone.”
Kael looked out the window, at the distant mountains.
“The moment I saw her,” he said quietly, “everything shifted. Like something ancient woke up inside me.”
Ronan’s eyes widened, just a flicker. Enough.
“The Moonbond,” he whispered. “The gods-cursed bond of legend.”
Kael didn’t answer.
He didn’t need to.
Ronan’s voice dropped further. “If that’s true… then Lyra Vale is not just a girl. She is danger. For you. For the pack. For all of us.”
Kael’s hand curled into a fist.
“I know.”
“And yet you kept her.”
Silence.
Finally, Kael spoke.
“I feel drawn to her,” he admitted. “As if the moon itself pulled me toward her. I fight it, but…”
He didn’t finish.
He didn’t have to.
Ronan nodded slowly. “Then the gods have chosen you for something greater. Or darker.”
Kael’s eyes turned cold again.
“I will not be ruled by fate,” he said. “Or prophecy. Or a girl.”
Ronan didn’t look convinced. “And if the bond grows?”
Kael turned away.
“Then I will break it,” he whispered.
But even he didn’t believe it.
***
The guards led Lyra through the west wing.
The halls were tall, cold, and quiet.
She tried to keep her head up. She refused to look weak.
But inside, fear sat heavy in her stomach.
Halfway down the hallway, the guards stopped suddenly.
A woman stood ahead, tall, beautiful, dressed in deep red silk.
Her hair flowed like black water.
Serena.
Lyra’s breath caught.
The guards bowed their heads and stepped aside.
Serena walked toward her slowly, like a cat stalking something it already owned.
Lyra swallowed. Her heart hammered.
“You,” Serena said softly. “The little Omega.”
Lyra forced herself to stay still. “My name is Lyra.”
Serena smiled, but it wasn’t kind.
“Names only matter if you survive long enough to be remembered,” she whispered.
Lyra’s fingers curled into fists.
She wanted to speak, but her voice wouldn’t come.
Serena tilted her head. “Do you know what you are walking into?”
Lyra said nothing.
Serena stepped closer
“You are a spark,” she said. “Small. Weak. Easy to crush.”
Her eyes darkened.
“And if you get in my way,” she whispered, “I will crush you. Slowly.”
Lyra’s chest tightened. Fear crawled up her spine.
But she refused to look away.
“Why hate me?” she asked quietly. “I didn’t choose this.”
Serena’s smile vanished.
“Because he looked at you,” she said.
Lyra’s breath stopped.
Serena leaned in,
“He is mine. This kingdom is mine. And you…”
Her eyes narrowed.
“You are nothing.”
For a moment, neither moved.
Then Serena stepped back, face smooth again.
“Take her to her room,” she told the guards.
“And make sure she remembers where she belongs.”
As Lyra was pulled away, Serena spoke softly behind her not loud.
“Pretty little Omega.
Try not to die too quickly.
I want to enjoy watching you break.”
Lyra didn’t respond.
She couldn’t.
***
Kael stood alone in the hall after speaking with Ronan.
His hands were still.
His face calm.
He could feel Lyra somewhere in the castle.
Not see her, not hear her.
just feel her.
Like a thread tied around his heart.
And that scared him more than any battle ever had.
He turned sharply.
“Send for the head maid,” he ordered.
Moments later, a woman in plain gray stepped into the room.
She kept her eyes low the entire time.
“You called for me, Alpha?”
Kael nodded.
“You know the girl I brought back. The Omega.”
The woman stiffened. Everyone knew.
“Yes, Alpha.”
“She will not be treated as a guest,” Kael said.
“She will serve in this castle.”
The maid blinked, surprised.
“A… servant, my king?”
“Yes.”
His jaw tightened.
“She will start at the lowest rank. Kitchen. Laundry. Whatever you see fit.”
The woman nodded, though worry touched her face.
“Yes, Alpha. I will prepare a servant dress for her.”
“And…”
Kael hesitated for half a second.
Just half.
“Make sure no one harms her.”
His tone sharpened.
“If anyone touches her, they answer to me.”
The maid bowed quickly.
“Understood.”
She left.
Kael closed his eyes.
He told himself this was right.
Keeping her close, but small.
Safe, but powerless.
Inside his world, but beneath it.
It was the best way.
The smart way.
The only way to stop the bond from growing.
So why did his chest feel tight?
Later — Lyra
Lyra sat on the edge of her new bed, a tiny one in a narrow stone room.
Not a prison cell, but not comfort either.
A knock came.
The door opened, and the head maid entered with folded clothes, a plain brown servant dress, shoes with thin soles, and a white apron.
“Put these on tommorow,” she said softly. “You will work with us now.”
Lyra stared at the outfit.
A servant.
Here.
In the place of the man who killed her pack.
Her stomach twisted.
“Why?” she whispered.
Her voice was small, tired, breaking.
The maid hesitated, pity in her eyes.
“It was the Alpha’s order.”
Lyra’s throat burned.
Her vision blurred.
Of course it was.
For a moment, she couldn’t breathe.
She felt… small.
Like she was being pushed down, lower and lower, until she disappeared.
The maid spoke more gently.
“Do not cry, child. You serve to survive. Many do worse.”
But Lyra wasn’t thinking about the work.
She wasn’t afraid of washing floors or carrying buckets.
She was afraid of him.
Afraid of the way her heart reacted when he looked at her.
She blinked hard, wiping her eyes.
Even if her chest felt like it was cracking.
She took the dress.
“I will do it,” Lyra whispered.
Not because he ordered it.
Not because she had no choice.
But because she would survive.
And she would remember who made her fall.
